The Sign That He Couldn't Read
by Can'tStopImagining
Summary: Vivienne doesn't kiss Warner. One shot. Enid/Vivienne.


A/N: Just an observation. Thanks to my best friend for pointing it out.

She doesn't kiss Warner.

They get the internship and he proposes and she says everything's perfect, that it's the happiest day of her life and everything's going to plan and she's the luckiest girl on earth.

But she doesn't kiss him.

He picks her up and spins her round and he doesn't even try to kiss her.

I realise I've never seen her kiss him. In class, I watched him lean across to kiss her once, and she turns, ever so slightly, to offer him her cheek. He doesn't flinch or try to make contact with her lips. Maybe she isn't into public displays of affection, I think. But then one day I go to her room after class to return a book I borrowed, and the door's slightly open, and they're sitting in there, on the bed, and she's reading, and Warner has an arm around her, and she's just stiffly reading her book, as if she's sitting in a public library. He puts his book down and tries to kiss her, and she moves away from him.

It's odd, I think, because I have seen her kiss Whitney's cheeks in greeting, felt her lips on my own cheek after accepting a cup of coffee from me, but I've never seen her kiss Warner.

The first time we're alone, she's had an argument with Warner, and I know something's wrong instantly because she's sitting in the corridor outside my room, in an old t-shirt and jeans, her hair up (or as up as her hair will go, with half of it hanging loose around her face), and she looks a mess. She and Warner argue often. I know this because I watch them argue, when we're supposed to be doing work, or when Callahan's rambling on about some case nobody bothered reading up on. It never usually bothers her, but apparently today is different, because when I arrive back from the library she's sitting there, her legs crossed, her head dipped, and she's not wearing any make up. I've never seen her look so... normal. As soon as I arrive, she looks up and I can see that she's wondering if she made the right decision.

"Um... Hi..." I stutter, not really knowing what to say.

"Enid," she says. Her voice is softer than usual and it takes me by surprise, "can I come in? Sorry to bother you I just... I didn't know where else to go."

"Of course."

My room is a mess, because it's always a mess. I unlock the door and we go in, and I kick stuff off the bed and under it to make space for her to sit down. She's never been in here before, never had any reason to call by. I think she's probably the kind of woman who detests mess, lives for organisation I've seen her room – only from the outside, admittedly, but still – and it's very simple and mess-free. But if she is bothered by the piles of books and papers, the mess of laundry – both clean, and dirty – or the array of dirty plates, she doesn't say anything. She sits down on the bed, and she doesn't even do that with the caution of somebody who is in a stranger's bedroom.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, which is possibly the most stupid thing I could have asked. Clearly everything is not okay, but she humours me. She shrugs her shoulders. It's the first time I've seen her at a loss for words.

Eventually, she looks up at me, "do you think I'm a good person, Enid?"

I swallow, contemplate this for a moment. I do. I believe she's something remarkable. She's better at law than she thinks she is. She might sprout catty remarks to most of her peers, but I am sure that deep down she doesn't mean them. Or at least, not all of them. I don't think she's a bad person, at least.

I nod.

She doesn't speak again for a long moment, and I wonder if I should be filling the silence, but I have nothing to contribute. A comment about the weather, or our workload, or the economy, doesn't seem particularly fitting for the situation, so I remain quiet.

"You like me a lot don't you?"

I blink, unsure of how to answer this. My cheeks have flushed and I feel exactly the same way I did that first day of class when Callahan called me that word in front of the whole class. Just like then, it's the truth, but it's so unexpected, I don't know how I'm supposed to answer.

"I do," I finally say.

"You're sweet."

I'm not sure 'sweet' is the word I would use, or the word I wanted to hear, but I've long since realised this conversation isn't about me. She looks tired and full of thought and I still don't know what to say, so I awkwardly stand up from my computer chair and sit down beside her, in the hopes that just being there might help. I'm sure it won't. I expect her to move away, or stiffen up, but she doesn't. She turns and looks at me. Although I watch her a lot, I've never stared into those big, hazel eyes of hers before, and now I can't look away.

She leans forward and kisses me and all I can think about is _she doesn't kiss Warner. _I lift my hand to touch her face and she doesn't move away, doesn't flinch at my touch like I expected her to. She's warm and soft and all the things she pretends not to be, and I lose myself in her, more now than ever before.

And when she pulls away, she's smiling.

Vivienne never kisses Warner. She might link her arm through his, or lean on him when she's tired, or whisper to him during class, but she doesn't kiss him. She tells me about nights back in her room, her lying still on the bed whilst he moves around above her and she makes the appropriate noises, but they don't kiss.

The first thing she does, whenever we're alone, is kiss me.


End file.
